Silently, He'll Learn To Speak
by The Idiot Alchemist
Summary: At first it seems as though everything will be fine. He looks back and then there is blinding pain in his neck and he stumbles.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters, settings, etc belong to the Tolkein Estate and/or New Line Cinema. Not me. Isn't the fact that I'm writing fanfiction make that obvious?

A/N: Mahal is the Khuzdul (Dwarvish) name for Aulë, the Vala who made the Dwarves. Iglishmek is Dwarven sign language. Also, Ori needs more love. Come on, you know you love him. Don't lie. He's _adorable._ I feel kind of bad that the fic I'm focusing on him with primarily deals with hurting him. (And then what happens by the time of Fellowship with Moria. BRB, crying 4evr.)

Written for PrincessMeowKitty1889's challenge.

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**Silently, He'll Learn To Speak**

At first it seems as though everything will be fine. They had fought their way through, everyone had lived, both of his brothers were nearby, and he could literally see the light at the end of the tunnel. He is exhausted from fear and constant running and lack of sleep, but the light and his comrades urge him forward and he knows that everything will be fine once they are out.

Then he sees Dori fall.

He has to save his brother and so he and Nori both turn to help him. They lift Dori so that Nori can support him with Bombur's help, and he stays behind the three to protect them.

He does not know what happens next. He looks back and then there is blinding pain in his neck and he stumbles. He gets back up and keeps running. He has to keep running. Through blurred eyes he looks to see if anyone has noticed. He can't quite tell, but he is sure that they have not. Gasping for what breath he can, he tries to catch up. He has never been as strong as the rest, preferring his books and his journals. But he tries and his legs keep going even though the pain in his neck is unbearable and nearly consumes him. He can still see the light, although he can see very little else, and he focuses on it, trying to ignore the pain.

It doesn't work. He falls and he thinks, strangely calm, that this is it. This is where he dies. He is at least grateful that he died trying to help his kin, although he is sorry that Dori and Nori will miss him. He hopes they will miss him. He hopes that Mahal will look upon him kindly once he dies.

He can feel Mahal's arms around him now as he is gently lifted and given help to keep going. Strange. He thought that pain ended once you died, and yet he can still feel that agonizing throbbing in his neck. Is he paying punishment for some sin? He had once stolen some of Nori's cakes when his older brother was trying to pick the pocket of a Man. Or is he still alive? Is Mahal guiding him? He cannot see his rescuer, so it must be. It feels as though he is being supported, and yet no one is there. Mahal must be aiding him, making sure he lives so that his brothers will not have to go on with the agony of thinking they let their little brother die.

Soon, he and his savior are out of the cave and heading down toward _green_. He still cannot make anything out, but it is bright and it is green and it is far better than that cave. The thought of a Dwarf wanting to be somewhere green instead of underground strikes him as terribly humorous for some reason and he laughs hysterically. Mahal yanks him and he again remembers the gravity of his situation.

With Mahal's aid, he keeps running towards the green, which he realizes are trees as he nears them. He hears voices and nearly bursts into tears when he realizes they are his friends and his brothers. He feels Mahal shift and he can _see_ him, or at least a blurry outline. Mahal calls out to them, lifting a hand to wave them over. He sees hazy figures coming closer, and Mahal does not leave him.

He sees a figure that is definitely Nori, judging by the hair, and he tries to call out to him, only for the pain in his throat to flare up and silence him once more. Another figure practically rips him from Mahal's arms to hold him close. Dori. It must be Dori. He can see his brother's face clearly and feels tears on his cheeks that aren't his. Dori looks up away from him, to look at Mahal. Ori wonders what Dori must think about Mahal.

Dori's words shock him.

"Bless you, Bilbo. I thought he'd been lost."

Bilbo?

But Bilbo had been lost back in the caves. He had been left behind by the goblins, only to undoubtedly be rediscovered and have horrible things done to him. They should go back for him. They couldn't, but they should.

He looks to Mahal, only to see Bilbo looking down at him with concern. So it _had_ been Bilbo. But why couldn't he see him earlier?

He does not think of it for much longer when he feels Dori gingerly touch his neck and he hisses from pain.

"Oh, little brother. What have they done to you?"

Nori is also looking at him and he speaks, "We need to get that out of his neck. Oin?!"

"We have no time."

He looks to the source of the last sentence, who he knows must be Gandalf. Dori loudly yells, "What do you mean?! My brother needs immediate attention!"

"His wound is not immediately dangerous. There is an entire host of goblins and orcs coming our way. We must get to safety if your brother is to live at all!"

The next moments are vague for Ori. He is running again, and then his brothers are pushing him up a tree, there is fire, and then he is flying. He thinks he has died until they are on solid land once more. He keeps lying in his brothers' arms as Oin rushes over to him. He sees Oin pulling out supplies and hears him trying to talk comfortingly, "We had a bit of a scare with Thorin, but he's alright now, just as you will be in a bit. He and the hobbit appear to be getting along quite nicely now. I guess saving both his life and yours got him a bit of respect from out king, eh?"

Thorin had been hurt? He doesn't think about it for much longer as a sharp sting radiates from a point in his neck. Oin is pressing on it.

"You've got a dart of some sort in your neck, boy. Don't panic; it's not anywhere dangerous and I don't think it's poisoned. I think we surprised 'em too much for them to be able to poison any weapons. Doesn't look like the surrounding skin is discolored, either. It's still likely barbed, so I'll likely have some trouble getting it out."

He hears Nori's voice, "Gandalf, can you help?"

"My skills are not in the healing arts and I do not think I can contact Radagast from here. I have faith in Oin though. I'm sorry to leave at a critical moment, but I must speak with the Eagles."

Dori is stroking his hair and Nori is gripping one of his hands as Oin attempts to remove the dart. He feels his other hand being held and turns to see that it is Bilbo. Oin grumbles, "Don't move your head. I need you to keep your neck still so I don't wind up hurting you more than the dart has."

Ori tries to reply, but nothing comes out. He only feels pain where his voice should come from.

He tries to scream as he feels the dart being pulled out of him, although he knows Oin is being as careful as possible, but finds that he can only let out a high-pitched outburst of air. He feels Dori's hand tremble.

"Is that normal? Is it normal for someone to scream like that after an arrow in the neck?"

"It's not an arrow," he hears Oin say, "And I think the problem is that it hit his voice box."

Nori's hand almost crushes his.

"What do you mean?"

"The part of his throat that he uses to talk was damaged. I'm not sure though."

Ori felt a rush of panic. What did that mean? Didn't he need his whole throat to talk? What's going on?

The dart is out and Oin is pressing a wet cloth to the wound. The substance soaking the cloth stings his wound something terrible as it disinfects and he tries to scream again in vain. His eyes well up and Dori is singing him a lullaby to try to calm him down as Nori asks if he can help.

"Sure," Oin says, "Keep out of my way."

Oin continues cleaning the wound, although it stings terribly. He is relieved when Oin finally decides he's done all he can and begins to bandage it.

"I'll probably have to redress it in a few hours, but I think we're out of danger for the moment. Can you speak, Ori?"

Ori opens his mouth and tries to utter any sound, but the mere effort hurts and nothing but grotesque sounds emerge so he places and hands on his throat in an attempt to dull the pain.

Dori panics, "Will he be alright? This will heal, won't it?"

Oin shrugs, "Only time will tell. I hope it does, but Ori won't be speaking for a while and I suggest that he doesn't try. It could damage his voice further and prevent any recovery."

Ori curls into Dori as Nori goes to sit by his other side, so that he is surrounded by his brothers. He tells himself that he is willing to give his life to retake Erebor and that his voice should be no care, that he has always preferred the written word to speaking out loud anyway. It does little to comfort him, but little comfort is better than none. He remembers studying Iglishmek in one of his books and wonders if that's how he will be communicating from now on. Does anyone else in the Company know it? Maybe Bilbo might. He had plenty of books in his home and seemed like him; more of a scholar than a warrior.

It won't be so bad, he tells himself. His brothers are still alive and safe as are is friends. They are all with him and will help him. Besides, his wound might heal and all will be normal again.

His hopes and his brothers comfort him as he finally lets himself sleep.

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I have one long-running fanfic going already, so this is probably going to be it. I hope it's enjoyable as a one-shot, though!


	2. Chapter 2

OK, I lied. One more short, short story. Because I loves you all. And I loves Ori and am sorry for hurting him. And the muse hit again. And I found that I _really_ like writing in 3rd person present tense because it makes the words and emotions just _flow_ for me. I blame Angela Carter. (Read the Bloody Chamber by her; it's _awesome._)

OK, I'm done.

Disclaimer: I own a paperback copy of the Hobbit. That's all of the franchise I own, not the characters or settings or nothing else.

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**…and Without a Word, Will Be Listened To**

The wound has closed over and scarred, and although it is no longer painful to attempt to speak, he still cannot manage any more than a few unintelligible sounds that do not sound like they should come from any person: Dwarf or otherwise. Dori tries to console him by saying that he has only recently healed and, given time, he could still be able to speak again. Ori smiles and nods and is grateful for his brother's kind words of encouragement, even if he does not quite believe them anymore. He is merely happy to have his brother's care and support. Nori gives him a book on Iglishmek that he knows none of them had on the beginning of the journey and he is still not quite sure where he got it. He hopes that the book's former owner does not track them down. Still, he is extremely thankful and has memorized enough to communicate simple conversations with his brothers, who to his joy and gratitude are studying it as well to understand him. He's seen Fili and Kili nose through the book as well, although they never seem to remember many of the signs. Still, he is happy that his friends are trying for his sake. He even thinks that they are improving a little, as when he signs "Hello" or some other greeting, they smile and greet him in return.

It's something.

Thorin is less gruff than usual towards him, which was likely equivalent to coddling affection in Thorinish. He does not know Iglishmek and is too busy keeping the Company going to learn from the book, but he pays attention whenever Ori appears to be trying to say something and takes the time to try to understand. Ori is frankly flattered that the king thinks his opinions are worth listening to at all.

The others are kind to him and try to help the best they can. Gloin in particular is surprisingly protective of him and Ori guesses it's because he has a son at home about his age (Gimlek? Gimlar…something like that) whom he misses deeply.

The hobbit has taken to learning Iglishmek as well, presumably because his bookish mind revels at the chance to test itself. He needed not to have bothered, though. Usually when he was around, the two of them would simply sit side-by-side by the same tree and admire the landscape, Ori sketching and Bilbo smoking, occasionally offering his pipe. Even if Ori hadn't been rendered silent, he doubts they would have spoken much in moments like these, which were best enjoyed quietly. If Ori needs to say something, he simply writes it in his journal that is already on his lap for sketching and hands it to Bilbo. Bilbo responds in Iglishmek, likely to practice, and Ori is glad to have someone willing to put in such an effort to _listen_ to him.

He still can hear and understand the speech of others, and at first was nervous that with his voice he had lost whatever microscopic input he had amongst his friends. He had never been a very outspoken Dwarf and mostly kept his ideas to himself, but he still has thoughts and ideas that he feels are worth others listening to. He still wants to be heard by his friends and does not want to simply have to take what they say and be unable to give anything back.

And apparently, they want to listen.


End file.
